Our Not So Divine Interventions
by NeverTheFollower
Summary: Jazz is a local source of hatred in her small town ever since the trials. Or more the murders. Logan is a mystery to everyone, making him a thing to avoid...a good call on their part. What will happen when Jazz becomes Logan's next target... Vampire
1. Skeletons Jazz

My half-hearted glances out the window leave me with just the incoherent thoughts of how the sky looks like some abstract painting from a museum far off from my neighborhood and no sign of Angel's gray truck rumbling towards my "house". Maybe he decided not to come home tonight. I wouldn't blame him. I live on the bad side of town. The side that can only be documented as the rundown houses between the one-dollar-movie theatre and the first corn field. Anyone in this small area that consists of 13 homes (9 unoccupied) is considered 'poor white trash' the other part of town is big beautiful mansions and old time shops. There is no grey area. No middle-class. Everything past that first cornfield is 'the country'. Not much to see here.

Just a bunch of Sears catalog boys and girls. And then there was me. The girl in black. That's me. The doped-up freak girl. Even though the only way I have ever even seen drugs are on TV and when the DARE officer used to come to our school. I was also called a slut even though I am still a "virgin"...in a way. "Whites for virgins, huh Jazz?" they'd say referring to my all black ensembles. I've always wondered where people came up with these things. TV, most likely.

I sigh, there's not really much to do about it. Just sit at home and watch re-runs. Like I am now. Like the loser I am cursed to be.

As I'm almost asleep the door creaks open. "Jazz? You up?" I hear my older brother/guardian whisper.

"Now I am." I glare up at Angel hatefully. Home late again I see.

"I'm sorry. I just didn't want to try to carry you to bed if you're not awake." He says. He still has the scar from last time. I remember waking up and being carried toward my bedroom. The next thing I remember was being dropped and Angel yelling and holding his neck. I was going for the jugular but all I got was a little slice of his tanned skin. Shallow enough to keep him alive, deep enough to leave a white line across his neck. Painful enough to make me feel guilty even now.

"Yeah I guess." I say placing my heavy combat boots on the floor and standing up. With the three and a half inch heel I'm about as tall as my six foot brother. I've always been tall. "Good-night, Angel." I say hugging him. I really do love him...for some reason.

The next day I come in late for school as usual. This leads to me getting detention until 4:35. Which then leads to my whole schedule being off. I try to keep my life on schedules so I don't lose my mind but now I lose my mind when my schedule is broken. My bus is gone so I have to walk. I usually go home, do my homework, then walk into town and go to the coffee shop with Lauren, my friend-type concept.

You see, Lauren didn't always live next door from me. Once she was rich and popular. Once she would have looked down her little button nose at me and mimic all the mean things everyone else says. But not now. About a year and a half ago her father's company went bankrupt forcing them to foreclose the house. So she moved next door from me, into the best house in my 'neighborhood', and eventually we became somewhat of friends because when she lost her money, she lost her shallow hypocritical followers. Now here we are. We are all we have, and that still isn't much.

But I don't have homework so I go straight to the coffee shop. I stalk up to the counter and look down on the girl. She's blonde, short, and unbelievably cute. She smacks loudly, and quite obnoxiosly on her gum and says "What will you have?" without looking up from her _Seventeen_ magazine.

I usually get something with flavor but today that just isn't going to cut it. "A large coffee. Black."

She smirks as she punches in the order into the cash register. "Surprise, surprise" She says with the raise of her dark brown eyebrows that match the big strip at the base of her hair. The Barbie doll wanna-be.

I chose to ignore her comment as she walks off to get my coffee. She doesn't seem like the type to spit in it but you never know...

When she brings it back I stir it a little. No saliva visible. Good girl.

"That will be five ninety-seven." She says looking at me disgustedly. I get that a lot.

"Just put it on my tab. I'm Ja-" I say before she cuts me off.

"I know who you are, daddy's girl."

Daddy's girl. Haven't heard that one in a while. Yeah, she was old enough to know about the trial, but still. It still hurts as much as before. Worse actually. I guess I'm stupid for thinking everyone forgot, or would at least leave me alone about it. It's not like I could have stopped it. Stopped him.

I turn away. I don't want her to see how red my face is. I can feel it burning.

I walk towards the curtain in the back of the room. Behind that curtain are three tables in a very small room. I guess it was made for parties even though I think I'm the only one who would celebrate their birthday in a coffee shop.

When I pull the curtain back I don't find the usual deserted area. There is a man there. One I've never seen before, which is pretty weird for this microscopic town. He's wearing a black leather trench coat with black leather gloves, black jeans with a gray fade on them, and big, bulk, black and grey Doc Martens. I grow excited just looking at him. He's reading an old leather-bond book with such concentration you'd think there were pictures of naked women in there. I'm sure there isn't though. He doesn't seem the type. I'm finally looking up at his face. He's gorgeous with his full pinkish lips and ghost-pale complexion. He has either dull black or very dark brown hair that comes dangerously close to his shoulders and falls over his ice blue eyes...starring right at me! I'm probably starring like an idiot. That or a stalker. I quickly lower my eyes to the ground and sit at the table across from his. I hate to stare but there really is no other place to lay my eyes besides on him. There is nothing else of any life or interest in the room. So I rest my eyes on him.

It doesn't take him long to notice and look at me questioningly. I just take a gulp of coffee. Confrontation has never been my strong spot. I lower my eyes again as I feel him examining over me just like I had done seconds earlier. I am just hoping I don't get a snicker.


	2. Target Found Logan

It's quite sad when the most interesting thing that has happened to me in a while is a girl starring at me. Well, I should say woman. She looks about the age of 20, but whether or not she really is, is based solely on her personality. She is rather tall with dark red hair and skin almost as pale as mine. She's wearing mostly black. (Black boots, black fishnet on her legs and in the form of fingerless gloves on her hand, a small black skirt, and a black tube top that clung tight to her curves. Oh, and of course a few random black accessories) Of course, I have seen girls like this considering all the places I've inhabited but never here. Everyone here seems straight out of an episode of the O.C. (which just happens to be one of my sources of hatred) I finally get a peek at her face even though she has been staring intensely at her hands that grip tightly around a cup. She has a smallish nose that counteracts with her thick, glamorous lips (lips that looked naturally large not like she had tons of needles jammed into them and still looked like a fish like oh… Janice?) and her eyes are completely surrounded by the same sparkling black in the form of eyeliner, eye shadow, and mascara (which clings to her elegantly long lashes). All of this frames her green eyes that look like the lawns of all the perfect little houses filled with all the perfect little soccer moms and their not so little vans. I like her eyes so much better.

"Um, hi." She says awkwardly and glances up at me then looks back down.

"How old are you?" I ask noticing the book bag she had thrown in the chair next to her when she walked in. I have never been the subtle type.

She squirms slightly "Uh, sixteen."

"No you're not."

With that, she finally looks up at me with questioning eyes "I'm not a liar but why should you care?" she says with very little attitude.

"Because I am willing to know if you're willing to tell me." I say just as I have said it before. Why do they always respond so strongly to that one sentence?

But she, she actually blew it off. At least that's what she says with her body language. The things her eyes scream at me are much different. "I'm not a willing person. In fact, I'm not even willing to further this conversation."

I shrug. She doesn't talk like she's sixteen. Her dialog is that of someone much more advanced than the average teenager. But hell, who is the average teenager these days? "So leave."

"You're not going to drive me out of a place I come to everyday."

"No you don't, not at this time at least."

She glares and brings the cup to her lips again. After a few seconds of pouring scorching coffee down her throat in an attempt to ignore me she slams the cup back to the table, causing it to slosh over the sides and drip down them and onto her delicate little, almost transparent hands. "Damn," she mutters and licks at the top of her hands then up the side of the cup.

It was rather amusing.

"Don't just sit there and laugh!" She says with her tongue still stuck to her hand. Probably to relieve a burn.

"I didn't laugh." I say nonchalantly with a slight shrug of my shoulders.

"Shut up being smart and hand me a napkin!" She says picking up her cup finding a pool of black liquid underneath.

I do as I'm told and hand her a few napkins that I snatch out of a dispenser on the remaining unoccupied table.

She places them on the small dark puddle on her table and once again sticks her hand to her tongue "You diwd wit ya wies."

"What?"

She brought her tongue back into her mouth and sat up straight. "Laughed. You laughed with your eyes."

I stare at her. Now I can see it. Her age, I mean. She may have the figure of a _Sports Illustrated_ cover and height of someone years out of their mid-teens, her rather childish face told the real story. Except for her eyes. They seem deeper than most young girls. Deeper than most people, period. I have always seen the eyes as a passage way to the very core of a person and she is no different. She has up walls, like most do, but the emotions that seem to overcome those walls are some of deadly few. Hate, pain, sorrow, and longing. A horrible combination.

I stand and move my chair to her table before I sink back down into it. "Do you need some ice?" I doubt it. It was only coffee. And it couldn't be that hot if she had just drunk so much of it.

"Uh, I don't think so. It just burns a little. I have thin skin." She says holding her hand out to me so I can view the red spot on her translucent skin. I take her hand in mine and kiss the injury lightly.

She looks up at me sharply. "Don't."

I kiss it again. "Why?"

She slowly pulls out of my loose grasp and rubs at the back of her hand. "I don't like to be touched."

"Then we should start this off the right way. I'm Logan." I say and stick my hand out to her as politely as I can.

She stares down at my hand suspiciously then slowly puts her small fingers in my palm. "Jazz." she says as I wrap my fingers around hers'. "Like the music." she says hesitantly "and that kick-ass drink by Pepsi."

I smile. "I like that."

"I'm going to have it changed. Probably to Layonna, like the word 'Lay' then 'Anna' with an accent, kind of like ghetto for 'lay on her', or Blaise, but spelled B-l-a-i-s-e because I don't like the letter 'z', or Wyther, spelled w-_y_-t-h-e-r." She says. Even though it is a rather worthless piece of information I still feel like she has just opened up. It seems this is about as open as she gets.

"I like Jazz. I think you just like stranger names."

"Mmhm." she pulls the soaked napkins off of the now disappeared spill and moves towards a garbage bin in the corner. I can't help but notice how gracefully she moves, even in her big, bulky boots. When she turns to come back to her, our table, she stops. In the silence I can hear rain hitting the tin roof and in our moments of silence it instantly becomes very heavy, causing her, Jazz I mean, to cringe slightly.

"I have to get home." She says in a monotone.

"You don't like bad weather?"

"Love it. But it's late and I need to leave before it gets any worse. My brother is psychotic." She says taking long quick strides towards the table, throwing her book bag and purse onto her shoulder. She really isn't dressed to be in the rain.

"Wait." I say pulling one arm out of my jacket then the other. "Take this." I say holding it out to her. She looks at me like I have to just asked her to carry the severed head I was carrying in my pocket to the rainbow to exchange for some magic fruit.

"I might not see you again to give it back."

"Oh, I'll get it back. Trust me."

She drops her things from her shoulder and wraps the coat around herself. It suits her. "Thank you, Logan." she says _almost_ sweetly as she picks up her bags and turns to leave.

"Jazz." I say leaning back in my chair.

"Yeah?" she turns around slightly to see me holding her large cup of coffee. She smiles and takes it from my hand. "Bye, for good this time."

"Make sure. Count you fingers and toes if you must."

She smiles again but turns and leaves before I see the full intensity of it.

I'll give her five hours. Then the hunt is on.


	3. Crash and Burn Jazz

The streets are extremely empty. It's almost frightening. I pull Logan's coat tighter around me in an attempt to keep from falling over from hypothermia. I try to push him to the back of my mind. It seems he is giving me more chills than the rain and wind itself. I've never met anyone like that. It was strange. He seemed threatening and friendly all at once. Like he wanted to keep me safe so he can hurt me later. I shiver. The thought just shows how extremely paranoid I am. Forget him. That was the last time I'm ever gonna see him, period.

When I get home Angel's truck is already parked in the driveway. I brace myself for whatever comes next. I make my way up the cracked pathway to our termite-infested porch and crack open the door.

"I'm home," I whisper into the cold building hoping for no response. I am in no mood to fight.

Rejected.

Angel pulls the door the rest of the way open and looks down the short distance between us at me. "Where were you?"

"With Lauren." I am a horrible liar, but I try my hardest not to break eye contact.

" Lauren was just over here looking for you."

Guess I'm not supposed to ever get away with anything.

"I was at the coffee house."

"I didn't see you go in." Angel is a mechanic that works at the (only) garage across from Linda's Coffee House.

"You should spend more time doing something clever with an engine than watch my every move." I say but realize how suspisous that sounds so I add, "But apparently you were because I was there. You can ask Brittany Spears working at the counter."

"Why should I believe you if you just lied to me about who you were with."

"Because I know you'd think I was planting a bomb under the floorboards of Linda's. This isn't the Tell Tale Heart and I was alone. Is that okay?"

"Whatever. I don't care what you do anymore. If you wanna run around town living up to your title then fine."

The rage in me climbs to the top. I shove him out of my way and say as calmly as I can, "Go to hell." I keep my face covered with a curtain of my stained hair that doesn't know it's natural color anymore. My anger has always been directly connected to my tear ducts. I find myself pouring out hatred but Angel would she it as an excuse to call me unstable. I make my way to my room, ignoring Angel's attempts to draw me back. What the hell does he know about 'my title'. Everyone loves him. He's the son that moved back to this hell town to take care of the kid no one else wanted. Aunt Bella and Uncle Charlie put me down gently and said they wouldn't be able to provide a good home even though they're upper-middle class. Grandpa and Grandma ignored the calls from the social worker. My cousin Heath, who was 21 at the time, said he was too young to watch some kid. So then it was up to Angel, it was him or going into foster care. So Angel 'dropped out of college' (that's the story he sold, he was actually working the part circuit in LA) and came down here. We were given this house (we once actually lived in the good part of town), paid for by the government, and a check a month. Other than that, we were all alone. Everyone loves Angel for it. They say that they would have let me get shipped off somewhere. They tell him that he's a miracle worker for keeping me tamed and the bills paid, like I'm a pet jaguar he has to tie up in the backyard to keep me from tearing innocent bystanders' heads off. All the adults slip him a few extra twenties when he fixes their Jags, Volvos, and SUVs. And everyone under 30 is either trying to be his best friend or date him. He has three girlfriends at this point in time and is friends with everyone in town. He's Mr. Popular without even having to throw a football. He's perfect. And I am his burden.

I make a crash landing for my bed and pull my faded grey comforter off the floor and around myself. It, plus all the clothes I'm wearing instantly take the chill off of me that clung like a second skin. The rhythmic sound of the rain calms me down, causing the tears to evaporate. I snuggle up against my sleeping mutt of a dog, Tokyo, turn a bootleg CD on and sing along with Evanescence's 'Missing'. The rain seems to clap and cheer at my performance.

Owe, my back hurts. I look around my room and notice there is no light bleeding through the curtain. I couldn't have slept that long, could I? I get up and run to the living room. No Angel. I sling the curtains back fiercely hoping to not see his truck. Nope, no truck. Yey! I let the curtains fall back over the window and can't help but jump for joy for a second or two before I hear knocking at the patched up door.(Angel has punched and kicked through it a few times) Tokyo appears next to me barking hysterically. Despite the fact that he's only a few inches tall he really is quite menacing.

"Shh!" I say to him and pick him up. He flops over on his back and lies in my arms like a baby. "Who is it?" I say pressing my face to the door, while Tokyo licks at my chin. Instead of a verbal response there is just more knocking. Probably Lauren. She's most likely mad that I skipped out on her at Linda's.

I wrestle with the locks for a minute, but the knob still won't turn. I put my weight into it and snatch hard on it...

I stand face to face with Logan with a door knob in my hand.


	4. Rendezvous Logan

The music illuminating from the house is the only sound at this point. Not even her breathing is breaking through.

"...I just wanna break you down so badly  
In the worst way

Well my inarticulate store bought  
A hangover hobby kit it talks  
And it says, "You oh, you are so cool"  
Scissor shaped across the bed  
You are red, violent red  
You hollow out my hungry eyes  
You hollow out my hungry eyes

And we lay, we lay together  
Just not too close, too close  
How close is close enough?  
We lay, we lay together  
Just not too close, too close

I just wanna break you down so badly  
Well I trip over everything you say  
I just wanna break you down so badly  
In the worst way..."

"I'm sorry. The music is kind of loud." she yells over the words keeping her stormy green, gray eyes on the stained carpet.

I take this opportunity to look into the house. It is a disgrace. Completely condemnable. "What is that?" I ask not having to look at her to know that her eyes had shot up at the sound of my voice. I also know she's going to have the same worried, confused, scared, and sometimes hate filled eyes as she always has when she looks at me. I'm like a 1000 piece puzzle that she can't even find the corners to. That's the way I like to keep things.

"What?" she says turning around to try to follow my gaze.

"That music."

"Oh. It's "Make Damn Sure" by Taking Back Sunday."

She might as well have been laughing hysterically while jumping and clapping. I would understand that as well as whatever she has just said. "I don't know them."

I turn back to face her just in time to see a smile biting at the edge of her lips "Not surprised." She leaned over to place the annoying little animal on the floor. It still growled at me. Animals always seem to be aware of my intentions.

"I'm gonna make damn sure  
That you can't ever leave  
No you won't ever get too far from me  
You won't ever get too far from me  
I'll make damn sure  
That you can't ever leave"

Taking Back Sunday yells at us and the song seems to grow on me. But I can't say the same for Jazz. She looks at me embarrassed "I-I'm sorry. I'll go turn it down." she whispers and turns towards the hallway. I follow. But, of course she doesn't know.

She enters the room a near second before I do and walks over to a small stereo sitting on the floor by her bed. She kneels beside it and spins the knob so the music fades away and becomes background noise.

She turns and falls over when she sees me. She just sits there with her long legs spread out with a bright red blush on her face and her gaze on the ground.

"I didn't mean to scare you." I say with a hint of laughter in my voice.

She looks up sharply "You didn't scare me. I lost my balance."

"Of course." I say letting a smirk sprawl across my face.

she stands up and glares. I haven't noticed exactly how tall she is until now. I'm 6'5 and she comes to about the top of my neck.

"I'm guessing you came here for your jacket." She says pulling it off her shoulders in a strange motion. I say strange because if she slowed it down a little it would look like a stripper move.

"Smart girl."

She lays it over her open palm and stretches her arm out to me. When I reach out to take it form her I instead take her hand in mine and let the coat to the floor.

She goes even paler at my touch.

"You really should calm down. I've seen corpses with better color." I say as I pull her to me. She falls forward and our chests collide.

"Let me go?" She says. It sounds more like a question than a demand. I can sense her fear in her voice. Anybody could the way it was shaking.

"Why? Why would I ever let someone like you go?" I ask wrapping an arm around her and stroking her face with my free hand.

Now her body is visibly shaking "Please." she says. She will no longer look me in the eyes. She stares at my chest as a way to keep from looking at my face.

I use the hand that I have around her to pull her closer to me and lock her in place just in time before she jerks at an escape attempt.

She whimpers. The heat of her body is soaking into my cold skin and I don't want to let her go. I move the hand I have resting on her face behind head and force her head closer and closer to mine.

"Jazz, you really shouldn't act this way." I say in the most soothing voice I can conjure. She looks at me. Her eyes. Her normally green and gray eyes have morphed into a soft blue with spirals of gray. And not only has the color changed. All the emotions behind them are the same as usual but something stands out. Her eyes are pleading. Begging, actually. If her eyes could talk something makes me think they would say something along the lines of: "Please, Please don't do this. Please not again."...

...Again? I release all hold on her and she tumbles to the floor. She looks up at me and quickly scrambles to her feet. She looks at me like a trapped animal as she backs up from me until her shoulder blades impact the wall making a loud crunching type sound. She grimaces but keeps her eyes on me.

Again. I can't get the word out of my head as I lean over to pick up the jacket.

"Goodbye, Jazz." I say turning to leave, "Until later."

"L-later?" I hear her whisper as I pull her bedroom door shut.

* * *

No one is reading this so I don't know why I am even writing this but whatever... 

As you see this is the first chapter I've used lyrics in but there will be many more. Lyrics are going to be kind of a way for the characters to show how they feel without actually saying it...you'll see.

And some of you are probably confused but I will tell you this...

What he was going to do to her was not what she thought it was going to be.

'Til next time...


	5. Therapy Jazz

I shiver and take a step away from the wall. Later?

I force my mind blank and take a deep breath. MAybe he's still in the house, I think as I place my shaking hand on the doorknob. I close my eys and gather my strength to steadily pull the door open. When I realize I'm alone in the house it sends ice through my bones and I sprint across the street to Lauran's house.

I find myself kicking the door instead of knocking. Lauren awners with fire buring behind her dark blue eyes.

"You have some nerve."

"I'm sorry." I may not be sure what all you're mad about but I'm sorry.

"I was waiting on you forever!"

"I'm sorry." to inform you that you weren't because I was there forty-five minutes late an you were not there.

"And then I go over to your house" to flirt with my brother even though he wants nothing to do with you? "and you're not even there! Angel thought you were with me!"

"I'm soooorry." that you are not good enough for my brother or my time.

"And then you come up here beating on my door like the ploice."

"LAuren! I said I'm sorry and I'm not saying it again!"

Her need to have someone around her gives her in and he anger fades. "Yeah, alright. Come on, I'm watching Girls Next Door."

"You know I hate that." In my eyes that show are just a few pieces of clothing away from being a softcore porno, even though I've never really watched it. I've seen bits and pieces from Lauren watching it religously. I think she wants to be a Playboy Bunny. She craves the spotlight.

"I know. Watching it is your punishment for being so cruel."

I glance back at my house, the large shadow that seems to forever linger over the property. "Fine" I say. Anyhing to not be alone.

* * *

We eat a few couple pounds of popcorn, watch a few mindless reality shows, and make a few prank calls to some poor soul named Chip that is desperate for conversation. (We ended up getting him off the phone by Lauren screaming and me saying "Oh my God! Lauren just got her hand caught in a blender." then hanging up.) 

A few hours later it is about eight o'clock and we are both exhausted for no real reason. I'm sprawled across Lauren and has one of her legs tiwsted so it's laying atop me. Lauren's eyes have been droping for a while so I deicde if I'm going to talk to her I better do it now before she goes to sleep. Her eye close and I tug on a strand of her hair.

"Lauren...can I talk to you?"

"Mm-hmm." she says not opening her eyes.

"Lauren, wake up."

She sighs and opens her eyes "I'm up, I'm up. What do you want?"

"I need to talk to you...about a guy."

She wakes up at this and a smile spreads across her face "Oooh, a guy huh?"

"Not like that."

She shrugs and throws her hair behind her shoulders "Well then how?"

"I...don't know. I met him and the coffee shop today."

"Was he flirting with you?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Well what about him, do you have a date?"

"No, he came over to my house?."

"Did you two..?"

"No! Let me talk please!" Isay getting irritated with her. She nods fumbles her fingers through my hair. I clear my throuht and go on "He came to get his jacket..." she looks at me questioningly, "Let me talk! He gave me the jacket at Linda's because it was raining,"

"Aww." she says and smiles at me. I smile a little too, then quickly go back to neutral. "So he came to get it but he followed me into my room when  
I went to turn the music down, because it was pretty loud, and when we were in my room..."

Lauren's eyes grew big "What? What happened? Did he do something."

I glare at her for interupting. "He grabbed me."

"How?"

I stood up and shoved my hair behind my ear "Stand up. I'll show you."

She stood and I reach out and yank her closer to me. I put one arm tightly around her waist and the other around her neck.

"Oh, well this isn't that bad, hun."

"It was still uncomfortable. And kinda scary, I mean it was just out of nowhere." I say letting her go. She stumbles back onto the couch and laughs at herself. I turn my head and laugh a little too.

"How did he find your house?"

"I don't know...he might have followed me."

Oooh, freaky stalker man."

"Lauren!"

"What?"

"Don't say that. I don't think he's a stalker..."

"You don't _think_."

I glare at her. "I should probably go home."

"Oh, don't be that way."

"No, I should go anyway. Angel is probably home by now."

Lauren perks up a bit at my brother's name. She has had a crush on him since she first laid eyes on him. Angel is rather handsome, I guess. He must be with the way girls drool over him. "Think I could come over?"

"No, because you would go to sleep over there and your parents would think you got kidnapped."

She rolls her eyes "Alright. See you tomorrow, babe."

"Night." I say and hug her quickly then leave the house. I almost stumble down the steps, blinded by the darkness of the starless sky. Just a small, pale stream of moonlight flows through onto the street. I smile slightly at the beauty of view. I take my time crossing the cracked street.When I do get into my yard, I go around back to my window, it always takes me about five minutes to open the damned thing but it's always better than confronting Angel. I finally pry the thing open and pull myself inside and end up tumbeling to the stiff-carpeted floor."Fuck." I mutter and hold my ankle that I just landed on.

I spread out on the floor and stretch. "I'll just sleep down here, I don't care." I say to no one in particular. Logan is gone. He'd gone for good. Maybe he wasn't even there in the first place. Maybe it was just my mind. Maybe he was a ghost or maybe he was just a hullutionation. Whatever he is he's gone.

I crawl into my bed and snuggle up into my blanket. Everything is back to normal. Logan is gone.

...I hope.


	6. Across the City Limits Logan

I make my way from the car to the gray stone building. The sun beats down violently on the little skin I let bleed through my clothing. I have to fix things. Why? No idea. How? Don't know that either. But I do know that I have fucked up. But...she's just a toy. Something to taunt for a while until I get bored of her. Right? Right.

I shove the doors open and am instantly relived by the dull, artificial light and few windows.I smirk as a few students turn to look at me but keep my eyes searching for the door I need. I finally find it, the office, and slowly enter. There some child with a mo-hawk is being scorned and seems very bored by it. I let them talk. I have all the time in the world. A heavy-set, gray haired woman looks at me with disgust. I think the look is a permanent flaw that is always plastered on her face.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, I need to check-out a Jazz Harrison."

"Are you a friend of Angel?"

I'm not ignorant. I know when you are asked that the question is usually 'yes' and when it's not you can see it in their eyes and hear it in their voice

"Yes."

"Oh, alright. I'll buzz her classroom." she says and types something on the prehistoric computer, uncomfortably I imagine considering her nails area about an inch long.

"That's quite alright. I'll go get her." I turn towards the door.

"Do you know where the gym is?"

"I'll just follow her scent." I say and close the door behind me. I don't need to look to know the twisted, horrible face she makes. I make my way through that building and find myself next to a large structure of the same gray brick as everything else. I could already hear the little children playing something from outside the doors. I kick them open and walk inside. Apparently I wasn't very loud about it because no one looks at me,they just continue with their dodge-ball game. I scan the room for the tall red-head and finally lay my eyes upon her. Due to her height her shorts seem even smaller then the already small ones adorning the rest of the girls. She has her hair thrown up haphazardly, but she still looks beautiful. A different kind of beautiful this time. She catapults a red rubber ball at some short brunette and sends her to the benches. Then one is thrown at her and she almost falls on her face trying to avoid it. It is really rather amusing.

Then she finally spots me, she glances in my direction and freezes. Because she is so focused on me a ball comes and hits her right in the stomach.She doubles over and flashes a rather inappropriate finger at her attacker.

She looks back at me and quickly strides closer to me.

"What...the hell?"

"Always such foul language." I say and shake my head at her.

"W-why are you here?"

"Am I not allowed here?"

"No. No, you are not. Now please leave." she says and turns to walk away. I grab her thin arm by the elbow. The warm veins raise up when I they come in contact with my fingers.

"Now come with me Jazz, I checked you out of school."

She turns around and the face she conjures up several different emotions in me. She looks bewildered. Almost like a stunned animal at a slaughter house.

"You did what?"

"I checked you out of school."

"Why?!" She sounds more nervous now.

"Because you and I need to talk." I say and lock our eyes. After an intense moment of attempting to stare each other down she looks at the floor "Fine. Let me go get my things."

I watch her walk off into the locker room and emerge almost as quickly. She hasn't changed out of her gym clothes and is attempting to stuff her regular ones into her bag. She doesn't even stop in front of me, but keeps walking past me towards the door. "Come on!" she tosses over her shoulder as she pushes the heavy metal doors open spilling beams of sunlight into the room.

We look rather odd as we make our way through the main school building to my car. At least I'm guessing we do the way we're catching glances. I look at her as she looks at me and for a split second we smile at each other before we throw our eyes to the floor, or really, anywhere but the other person. I am too old for these high school games.

"Why did you seem so eager to get out of there?" I ask looking down at her.

"Don't you remember what high school was like? Now, would you want to stay there any longer than completely necessary?"

"Good point." I have to admit she is rather smart for a teenage girl. I push the door open for her and bow my head with a slight smirk. She awkward walks through the door, "Don't do that."

"What? Be polite?"

"No, be a smart-ass."

"Whatever you say." I whisper to her and take her wrist into my hand. "This way."

"Where are we going?"

"To California. We're going to be fashion models for over-priced clothing stores."

"My dreams are coming true." says sarcastically and follows me with ease. Her skin isn't reacting under my touch as much as before. Now there are just the normal goosebumps people get when I touch them.

"Where are we going?"she says scanning the parking lot.

"We will decide when we get in the car."

"You have a car?"

"Don't sound so surprised."

"Which one is it?"

I point at it. I smirk in anticipation of her response. Judging from her home she has probably never seen something so expensive.

"You have a Jag?!" Her eyes grow in size and in the intensity of the light behind them.

"Yes."

"I didn't even think you had a house." She says smiling in disbelief.

"I'm glad you think so highly of me."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Mhmm" I walk to the passenger side of the car and open the door. It takes her a minute to realize I'm holding it open for her. I slam the the door shut as soon as she throws herself inside and go to the driver's side.

The car jumps alive with a low growl. "Have you ever been to Huntsville?" I ask backing out of the parking lot.

"The big city? Um, Maybe once or twice."

I rest my foot forcefully on the gas pedal, throwing Jazz's body forward.

"Buckle up for safety." I say with a smirk and head for the city limits.


End file.
